His Aresthai

{11} Revenge is Sweet

HIS EYES WIDEN and his mouth opens but nothing comes out.

Ah, it's good to not be the speechless one for once. Then, a lightbulb goes off in my head. I might as well have a little fun with this.

Besides, I've always liked the sweet taste of revenge.

With that thought in mind, I slowly advance towards him, a sly grin on my lips.

I trail my fingers up his bare, muscular arm, relishing in the way his eyes close and he shudders.

"You know what, Eros, " I say, practically purring out his name and he lets out a deep, raggedy breath.

"I don't like the way you've been teasing me," I whisper, playing with the curls on the nape of his neck, as I stare at his tortured expression, a self-satisfied smirk licking at my lips.

"W-What?" he stammers, his eyes wide as he presses himself slightly against the wall.

"I don't like being teased."

I place my hands on his broad chest and he inhales sharply.

Then suddenly, my back is against the wall and he has caged me in between his arms. The air is charged with static electricity as he stares down at me, an intense, yet unknown, look in his darkened orbs.

Fuck, this is making me hot.

"You're treading on very thin ice, princess," his deep voice rumbles, and he tucks a stray piece of hair behind my ear, making my heart beat wildly in my chest. "Now think carefully about what you're going to say next."

I've already stopped hoping my intoxicated ass will say something smart for once, like "Ok." or "Sure thing buddy". 

So it really doesn't come as a surprise to me when my drunk, idiotic self opens her big mouth and says, "Punish me, Daddy," complete with a somewhat sultry smirk on my lips.

Oh my God. Kill me now.

No literally.

Somebody dig a hole and throw me inside.

I'm crazier than I thought.

They need to lock me up in an asylum this time.

Far, far away from fine-ass werewolves that turn me into a blubbering baboon and make stupid shit come out of my mouth.

His eyes darken and my insides instantly turn to jelly.

He snakes his big arms around my waist and hoists me up before hooking my legs around his hips. My dress rides up and he growls softly, before pulling it down.

I blink, and suddenly, we are standing outside the house on the curb, next to a shiny red Ferrari.

Whoa! Richy-rich.

"Cool car," I finally manage to say once I've picked my jaw up from the ground.

I've sobered up a bit in the short time I've been around him, which is weird because it usually takes me a while to form coherent thoughts and sentences after I've wasted myself on alcohol.

He grunts in reply and unlocks the car before sliding into the driver's seat and pulling me onto his lap so my legs come to straddle his hips and my hands come to rest on his broad shoulders.

Even sitting on his lap, he's still taller than me.

I've never believed myself to be short, but with Eros, I feel like a fucking midget, all the FUCKING TIME.

I'm the average height for a woman, goddammit.

5'5, 5'6-ish, but it is so unfair that he is so freakishly tall.